


Terrified

by sabasama



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3822994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabasama/pseuds/sabasama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt request: “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” </p><p>Rated T for language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terrified

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly drabble from tumblr. Dumb boyfriends arguing. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Title taken from Among Savage's song "Terrified"

“ _Stop_!”   
  
The word echoed through the apartment, ricocheting off the walls, causing Seijuuro to reel back instinctively.  
  
The command had been uncharacteristically loud and filled with an ire of a different kind than Sousuke’s normal bitterness–but it was the hand that had smacked his away and the sting it had left behind that was truly the most disheartening.   
  
Collecting himself quickly, Seijuuro’s mouth set into a straight line and his brows furrowed slightly as he stepped forward. “Sousuke–”   
  
“Shut  _up_ –just stop fucking  _talking_  for once, please for the love of fucking  _god,”_ Choking up on the last word, Sousuke brought his hands up to cover his face, turning away.   
  
“A-are you crying?” Seijuuro whispered, taking another step forward and tentatively reaching his hand out. Pausing, he dropped it again. His hand still stung.  
  
Sousuke’s shoulders rose as he took an agonizingly big breath, and dropped his hands as he exhaled roughly. His shoulders sank as the remaining energy left his body, leaving him feeling very,  _very_  empty and weak. It was all starting to become too much.   
  
Before, when they’d started dating, in the beginning, Sousuke had known. He’d always known–it hadn’t necessarily been a secret. Seijuuro’s extensive history of partners–serious and brief–was nothing new. And while Sousuke had always been reassured by his false bravado and the fact that,  _no I am not affected it’s all in the past_ , he’d also known since the beginning, that it had never left the back of his mind. In the deep corners where Sousuke had adamantly shoved every thought of it away, he soon realized corners held nothing down and, much less, sealed anything away.   
  
Now, in the middle of Sousuke’s apartment, with a broken dish littering the floor, food scattered and chairs lying on their sides, the corners had joined and everything had spilled over.   
  
Sousuke turned, keeping his stone gaze lowered, silently answering Seijuuro’s question. No, he wasn’t fucking crying. He wouldn’t be anytime soon, not if he could help it.  
  
While the majority of the situation they were currently in was due to Sousuke’s stubborn decision to never address the matter, Seijuuro also played a relatively big part. For one, he was the cause of all the inner turmoil spilling out uncontrollably, and he also never knew how to use his fucking head before speaking.   
  
They’d been  _fine_ , peacefully eating dinner and he had opened his fucking mouth and mentioned, mentioned–something flared in Sousuke’s chest and he turned away again, slamming a fist into the wall. He quickly realized how stupid of an idea that had been when the impact travelled up his arm, upsetting his shoulder.   
  
A choked sob broke from Sousuke’s gritted teeth and he crumbled. Seijuuro cursed, stepping forward to catch and steady him. His head was reeling and his hands were shaking, but the look on Sousuke’s face, buried in his chest, was crushing and Seijuuro found himself sliding down the wall with him.   
  
It was all fucked up, all of it was, his shoulder, his relationship, his life. He couldn’t follow his one true dream, he couldn’t put aside his nagging feelings to properly trust and communicate with his boyfriend, he didn’t even know what to do with his future.   
  
But the warmth, the  _warmth_  surrounding him, warming his cheeks, soothing his dully aching shoulder, caressing his quickly bruising fist. There was a voice near his ear, murmuring sweet nothings. There was a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles.    
  
“I’m scared,” the strangled confession tumbled from Sousuke’s lips, off his shoulders, and his breathing recovered somewhat as the weight lifted a fraction. “I’m in love with you, and I’m fucking  _terrified_.”  
  
As the last word left his lips in a heavy breath, something cleared and suddenly taking a big breath didn’t feel like trying to breathe underwater anymore and his chest didn’t feel as if on the verge of cracking and splitting in half.   
  
The hand on his back stopped and the body beside him went rigid. Lost in the afterglow of his confession, it took a moment before Sousuke looked up.   
  
Seijuuro’s eyes were already on him, glued to place and glazed over. His mouth hung open stupidly, as if ready to say something, but the words refused to climb out.   
  
Sousuke froze as well, suddenly realizing what had just been admitted as a chill ran down his spine and he jerked back, falling onto his backside on the hardwood floor. This was the worst possible situation to be admitting his feelings, not while fighting.   
  
Not missing a beat, though, Seijuuro shot forward, pushing him back against the floor and capturing Sousuke’s lips mid complaint.   
  
“Wh–Seiju– _mmph_!”   
  
The back of Sousuke’s head pulsed with muted pain and their teeth clanked, but nothing compared to the feeling of having his boyfriend everywhere, surrounded, all at once. It was moments like these that made him feel stupid for worrying, for thinking about giving up.   
  
“I love you, too, I love you so much–I love you, Sousuke,  _love you_ ,” The words were falling out between moist breaths, pressed amidst their lips. Sousuke inhaled them in, gasping for air, clouding his mind and dissipating the worries and the doubts.   
  
Apologies and whispers of love were flowing endlessly, pressing against every available patch of skin. Shirts were discarded quickly, broken dishes and dreams forgotten, skin running against skin.  
  
Suddenly, it all seemed so silly. Sei was his, all  _his._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think. {:


End file.
